


intuition

by SoManyThings



Series: telepathy doesn't entail communication [1]
Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: Alternate Universe - Magic, Light Angst, M/M, Shirabu Kenjirou: ultimate asshole, Telepathic!Shirabu, Unrequited Crush
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-12-29
Updated: 2016-12-29
Packaged: 2018-09-13 01:30:44
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 13,494
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9100513
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SoManyThings/pseuds/SoManyThings
Summary: Being born to family of mages wasn’t nearly as captivating as one might imagine. Rather, for the better part of Kenjirou’s life, it had involved long ass lectures about how he was neither better nor worse than any other normal human, and how he ought to use any skills he developed for the benefit of those around him, and on, and on, and on. But, he could also read minds, so he figured it sort of balanced out. ●✧●✧●✧●For once in his life, Kenjirou decides to not be an asshole and help someone out. It absolutely does not go his way.





	

**Author's Note:**

> im EXTREMELY pleased that i can now take the title for longest two shiragoshi fics in the tag, yo
> 
> alternate title of this can be: "in which theres a shocking amount of miscommunication given one of the characters can literally read minds"

Being born to family of mages wasn’t nearly as captivating as one might imagine. Rather, for the better part of Kenjirou’s life, it had involved long ass lectures about how he was neither better nor worse than any other normal human, and how he ought to use any skills he developed for the benefit of those around him, and on, and on, and  _ on _ . 

But, he could also read minds, so he figured it sort of balanced out. 

His family had raised him the way they raised all the other children in their weird, magical village of his, tucked away in the mountains of Miyagi. Learning the family trades, mixing medicines, gardening, all that, while also trying to make him integrate into normal human societal values. Discovering he was telepathic, however, did create a bit of an upset in their plans. As far as Kenjirou was aware, the decision had proceeded as simply as; “We should probably teach him to control it before he gets let loose onto the world and ruins someone’s life.” “Yeah, probably.”

And that had been that. After the last few years of his childhood dedicated specially to training and harnessing his gift, he was sent off to a boarding school which had taken on another magical boy from the same village the year prior, with the final warning to at least  _ try  _ not to be a little shit.

_ ‘They always knew me too well,’  _ he mused, staring out the window of the train taking him back towards said school, by now a second home. He was seventeen, and had six years of assimilation and managing not to tell anyone about his powers under his belt to brag for.

Visits home were always fun, he wouldn’t deny that. There was something about the village’s charm - both literal and figurative - that helped him relax after a stressful term. Mountain air, magical energy… well, simply put, the reason that the village was where it was, was because it helped keep everything stay magical. It was hardly the same living on his own, with only one other magician nearby. 

But god  _ damn _ , did he enjoy being the only telepathic student in a school spanning seven years of teenage kids. 

The village elders could preach and plead all they wanted about how he should use his powers to the benefit of others, rather than only for his own gain, but if they genuinely believed him to do so, they didn’t know Kenjirou  _ at all.  _

Telepathic children were rare. Telepathic children were special. He understood that they wanted to seize the opportunity to harness the power to be helpful and a power for peace, but  _ honestly.  _

He had set himself ground rules, of course. He was a hotheaded, irritating boy, and he knew that, but he wasn’t a complete dick. In terms of volleyball, for instance, he drew the line at actively reading and uncovering game strategies and plays during or before a match. 

He played on the same team as the other magical boy, who had a knack for manipulating luck and chance, and _absolutely_ used it during games. He didn’t want to make the balance too unfair against all the normal kids, but clearly it wasn’t _totally_ unethical.

Either way, volleyball was a fast paced sport. It was hardly like he actually had time to read out every play in every teammate’s mind in the midst of the match. It was far more efficient to actually learn how to play and play well. 

(That being said, if he  _ happened  _ to catch a glance of what might happen because his mind strayed in the midst of a set, who was gonna stop him from reacting accordingly?) 

Really, the fun of being telepathic came off the court. For instance, getting ahead in classes became a breeze once he figured on how to use his talent fast enough. Of course it was more efficient to actually study and focus on his own paper, rather than search other people’s minds for answers they probably didn’t have. But when it came to answering questions in classes, where he could practically read them off at the front of the professor’s head and never found himself caught off guard - well, they took a liking to him as a student very quickly. 

And, being the person he was - a passive aggressive, easily angered, little shit - it was inevitable that Kenjirou found himself straying towards the very few things his family wanted him to avoid. 

He was a teenage boy who was absolutely always clued up on gossip surrounding anyone his heart desired - how on earth could they have expected anything else?

Speaking of gossip, Kenjirou noted, as he glanced up at the whooshing open train doors, becoming more and more frequent as they inched closer and closer to the school. A gaggle of kids had gotten on, some he recognised, and some he didn’t. Admittedly, most were kids he recognised only because he had gotten bored and decided to snoop around for interesting gossip. 

That girl, for instance, who had been particularly embarrassed after valentine's day, when she had confessed to a boy who she later found out was having a fling with her roommate. Or that boy who had a particularly scandalous dream about him and the captains of  _ both _ basketball teams - needless to say, his sexuality crisis had kept Kenjirou entertained for an awful long time. 

He rolled his eyes and turned away when he realised he absolutely  _ did  _ recognise one of them, given he was loud as hell and by far the most annoying addition to the volleyball team. 

“Shirabu-san!” Goshiki called, when he noticed the older boy practically curled against the window. It clearly escaped his mind that the shorter boy was trying  _ not  _ to be seen. Kenjirou inwardly cursed his luck. 

“Hello, Goshiki,” he said, looking up at the first year and watching as he sat down across from him. 

“Did you have a nice break?” he asked, fiddling to get his coat off and keep his paper cup - probably hot chocolate, knowing him and his stupid sweet tooth- upright. 

“My family is massive and I live in the middle of nowhere, so it was-  _ fuck!”  _

He cursed, and Goshiki gasped, eyeing the contents of his drink, where they began to spread all over the front of Kenjirou’s shirt. The train had jolted, and he hadn’t gotten his jacket off, or apparently a good enough grip on his drink, because one minute it was in his hand, and the next it was on Kenjirou. Because apparently his luck was that awful-

“Motherfucker,” Kenjirou whispered, under his breath, shutting his eyes in dismay for the inevitable appearance of-

“Aw, Tsutomu-chan! Kenjirou-chan! Funny running into you here!” Tendou cried, dropping himself into the seat next to Kenjirou and giving him a very one-sided hug. Kenjirou glared at him out of the corner of his eye. 

_ ‘Whoops, guess you’re not having a very lucky day!’  _ Tendou sang,  _ internally,  _ giving Kenjirou a wide smile. 

“I wonder why that is, you asshole,” Kenjirou muttered. Goshiki gave him a questioning look, as if something didn’t add up. Really, it didn’t, but Goshiki’s confusion was the least of his worries. 

“I’m so sorry, Shirabu-san,” he said, probably repeating himself. Kenjirou brushed him off with a wave of his hand, merely pulling Tendou’s scarf from around his neck to dry himself off and ignoring the offended squawk he got in return. Goshiki didn’t. “Uh, Shirabu-san, that was-”

“Yes, that was Satori’s,  _ I know.”  _ He practically spit. The boy blinked. 

“Aw, Tsutomu, don’t worry about Kenji-kun,” he said, not missing the way Kenjirou glared up at him for the nickname. “We grew up together, so I’m used to his horrible personality!” At that, Kenjirou rolled his eyes, and Goshiki’s mouth made a little “o”.  

Before he could come up with a comeback, Kenjirou winced, jolting forward as the train pulled into the next stop. He pressed a hand to his forehead as a loud buzzing began to filter through the front of his mind. Goshiki turned to him with a puzzling look, the confusion evident, which really just made the noise worse. Kenjirou let out a soft curse to himself silently.

Telepathy for Kenjirou manifested primarily in gaining sense of impressions, in regards to people’s emotions and initial thoughts. Until he had trained his skills into coherent telepathy, all he had been able to do was feel glances of emotions. Now, after years of practice, when he concentrated and listened, it was possible for him to actually decipher intelligible thoughts into full sentences.

He had had this sort of sense since birth,  and although it was something that ran through his family, he was more attuned to it than most. It was part of the reason his family discovered he was telepathic, really, because it was so damn  _ strong _ . 

Of course, the strength in which Kenjirou sensed impressions meant he got easily overwhelmed in crowded places with so many quickly changing emotions around him - like a train full of students who hadn’t seen each other in weeks, for instance. Being around Tendou never helped either; not only were his thoughts  _ loud,  _ but the magic he had and used regularly was just an added layer of noise. 

There were other contingencies like that which were always worse than others, and as more students began piling into the train, he could feel one of them coming up. He braced himself, but nonetheless- 

“Wakatoshi-kun!” Tendou half cried, half sang, jumping up from his seat and giving a hug to his friend as he sat quietly next to Goshiki.

A lot of things happened at once, in terms of emotions and thoughts, and Kenjirou nearly folded himself in half at the sudden onslaught of noise, and the mental confusion that followed.

Honestly, Ushijima was just the type of person who had a lot of different things felt for and around him. Whether it was love, admiration, jealousy, frustration - there seemed to be any and every emotion under the sun when he appeared. Ironically enough, he was always one of the quietest people in terms of what impressions Kenjirou could hear. But, either way, it was irrelevant when other people were present. 

As he sat down, Tendou was by far the loudest, both internally and externally. He had begun an excited chatter aloud, but his head was still filtering through all the things he remembered he wanted to tell his best friend from over the break, running through at a frankly alarming pace. Even if Kenjirou  _ wanted  _ to read his thoughts, he doubted he could actually slow him down enough to decipher any. There was always so much love in Tendou’s mind for Ushijima; like a brother or like a best friend, but nonetheless completely unconditional and so,  _ so _ strong. 

Goshiki, however, was a close second in noise levels, as he always had been around Ushijima. He usually had an equally strong level of admiration for their captain, that seemed omnipresent. Whenever Ushijima spoke to him, it seemed, especially if it was to give him praise or advice, there was a huge swell of pride and happiness filtering through him, and it was  _ always _ loud. 

However, Kenjirou realised with surprise, this time it was different.   

Yes, Tendou was expectedly loud, but unlike usual, Goshiki practically  _ screamed.  _

It wasn’t just pride and admiration flowing through that bowlcut covered head of his today, oh no. It was the usual excitement, laced with confusion and fear and elation and embarrassment and  _ love,  _ suddenly hitting Goshiki - and in turn, Kenjirou - all at once. 

Kenjirou was sure he would be having a lot of fun with this new revelation in any other situation, if it had been a gradual development. But no, it seemed like this little shit had gone and gotten heartsick for his captain over the span of the two weeks away from him, and it all decided to jump to the front of his mind the moment Ushijima sat down next to him, just that small bit closer than usual. 

“Shirabu-san, are you okay?” Ushijima asked, and Kenjirou glanced up from where he had apparently dropped his head in his hands, not even having noticed amidst the scream of emotions running full speed through his head. It was  _ loud  _ and it  _ hurt,  _ and was too surprising for him to have prepared for.

“Ah- sorry, Ushijima-san, it’s nice to see you again. Just a sudden headache, is all,” he said, and Ushijima nodded. A flicker of worry crossed his mind, and Kenjirou smiled to himself. Forever and always the concerned captain. 

The more he focused on the idle chit-chat that circled their small group, the more he could distract himself away from the noise of everyone’s minds. He had become a pro at grounding himself back to the real world and away from other people’s thoughts. And, even though he struggled at times to ground himself, it seemed like Tendou had finally grown a sense of mercy - or was too distracted to carry on tormenting him - and his horrible luck seemed to dissipate for the rest of the train ride.  

Nonetheless, he let out a heavy sigh of relief when he made his way all the way into his single dorm room and locked the door behind him. He supposed it didn’t help that he was a man of particularly strong and quickly changing emotions himself, but he would be the first to admit that telepathy was exhausting.

He dropped onto his bed, drawing his pillow over his face to just let himself enjoy the quiet that came with having a room to himself. His older sister had even made him a charm to keep his room silent and block out passing thoughts of people wandering around the corridor, or in the rooms next to him, for which he was eternally grateful. 

That, of course, did mean that he had to deal with nothing but his own thoughts, which was often uncomfortable more than anything else, just for the fact he was completely unused to it. More often than not, it led to him running his head through what he had picked up earlier on in the day, multiple times, just to have something other than his own thoughts to focus on.

Today, Goshiki’s screaming emotions were the obvious place to start. 

He felt himself frowning into the pillow as he remembered the onslaught of emotions in the younger boy’s head. He had felt that combination more often than he ever could count, surrounding just about everyone at some point or another. It wasn’t always that strong, but when it was, it was unmistakable. 

The volleyball team’s first year had a crush on their captain. 

He himself had done many journeys into what Ushijima was thinking, and how he felt towards other people. It was practically impossible to understand his attitudes and opinions at face value, and even being telepathic, Kenjirou struggled at times. But nonetheless, the results he had managed to find were conclusive. 

He valued the opinions of their coaches strongly. He had an endless supply of affection for his family dog. He didn’t always understand Tendou, but loved him anyway. And he was decisively fond of the rest of his team. _Fond_. Nothing more, and nothing less, no matter how disappointing that was. Kenjirou had figured that with fondness came a sort of familial love, and what he had gathered off of Ushijima seemed to support that conclusion. But, nonetheless, it was not anything that Goshiki would appreciate hearing.  

Kenjirou slowly pulled the pillow off his face, casting his eyes over to where the charm from his sister hung next to his door. She had made it with Kenjirou’s favourite colours in mind, and so the string was a light but vivid purple, even if it completely clashed with the dried flowers and herbs that made up the bulk of the it. He appreciated it regardless, and found himself fondly thinking on the day she had finished making it.

She made it when he was about 12, after he came back from dealing with a full year of constant and relentless  _ noise.  _ There were so many strong, varied emotions amongst the new students surrounding him, nothing like what he had dealt with at home. And so, when he returned disgruntled and agitated in more than a normal teenage boy way, his sister picked up on instantly. Full fledged telepathy wasn’t common, but it still ran in the family somehow.

_ “I know you have this thing about doing whatever you want with your own powers, Kenji, but at least  _ try  _ to keep in mind what everyone’s suggested,” She had told him. He was sitting on her desk while she finished tying off the final touches. _

_ “You can’t just expect someone who’s not a nice person to suddenly use all these magical powers to save the world,” he had grumbled back, receiving a flick on the knee and a glare.  _

_ “Kenji, all you need to do is not be a little fucking twit all the time,” she practically growled. “Even someone as bratty as you should be able to pull that off!” _

It was hardly like this was a story book, Kenjirou thought, where he was the unsuspecting protagonist who had to make some huge sacrifice and save the world. All he had to do was be nice to Goshiki, maybe reach out to him and steer him away from something that’d just get him hurt. That was doable, right?

He groaned, flopping over onto his side and burrowing his face back into the pillow. 

Somehow, he imagined trying to save the world was the simpler task.

●✧●✧●✧●

If Kenjirou was being honest with himself, he didn’t actually know all that much about Goshiki. 

He knew that the boy got on his nerves,  _ a lot _ . He knew that, for all that his preaching about becoming the best player in Shiratorizawa seemed like garbage, Goshiki was undeniably skilled enough to get on the starting line up of a strong team in his first year. And, as of a few days ago, he knew that the youngest member of their very own volleyball team had an insanely strong infatuation for their captain.

He huffed out a sigh, before getting to work on uncovering more about the last one. He could never afford to space out long enough during practice to actually get concrete thoughts off his teammates - it took a energy and effort that he was too busy focusing on playing the damn sport. That meant, of course, that he would have to find a way to  _ spend time  _ with the dumb boy. 

Kenjirou had anticipated a good amount of difficulty when it came down to hunting down a time to be around Goshiki without needing to deal with conversation, and so, reluctantly and  _ very  _ tentatively, he had asked Tendou for help. Really, he had only let him in on his plan to not be a dick and actually help someone for once, but even so, it seemed like Tendou was being generous and, for once,  _ not  _ fucking around with him. 

That being said, he was still a little bit surprised that sitting down next to Tendou for dinner a few nights later lead to  _ the whole team  _ joining them. 

Tendou hummed a small, internal “ _ you’re welcome! _ ”; Kenjirou simply rolled his eyes, but decided not to push it, lest he ruin the luck that seemed to (for once) be working in his favour.

It didn’t miss his mind that said luck extended to Goshiki actually sitting next to him while still focusing on people other than him for conversation. Kenjirou decided to actually thank his magical friend later, in a rare burst of generosity.

He had gone into this with a plan, of course. Simple but cohesive: he’d befriend the first year, and eventually (but quickly) get him to confess his crush on Ushijima so that Kenjirou could have an excuse to put in his own input on why that was an awful fucking plan. He’d find some first year to put Goshiki’s attention onto, and the hurt would hopefully be minimal. And so long as Tendou’s magic kept working in his favour, it was foolproof.

But before he got onto all that, he wanted to dig around and find out what it was about Ushijima that Goshiki actually found appealing. Okay, he would admit that at least part of him was irrevocably an asshole, and stopping the snooping would be far more effort than he was willing to expend on someone like Goshiki. 

It was surprisingly difficult. He had always pinned Goshiki down as someone simple minded, but the boy had a lot of thoughts spinning around his head, and none of them seemed to slow down, not for a second. 

Some of them were direct links to what the group was talking about: unconscious things, like acknowledging who was talking and formulating what he wanted to say next into actual words. Kenjirou offhandedly noticed he worried about making himself sound cool for the team (or Ushijima), before brushing it off as endearing, but irrelevant.

Others were stronger, but still latent thoughts. Goshiki would hear Yamagata say something, for example, and was reminded that he needed to get him a birthday card, or would start thinking of his siblings as he carried on with dinner and noticed that tonight’s dish was his younger brother’s favourite. 

Kenjirou hummed to himself. Charming. He actually seemed to have some sweet, innocent mannerisms when you dug deep-

He was blindsided by the sudden shriek that emanated from Goshiki when Ushijima spoke up, jumping in his seat and drawing looks from around the table. He nearly laughed when he realised Goshiki had thought “ _ Shirabu-san-?”  _ in a particularly worried tone, before shaking off everyone else’s thoughts to collect his own.  __

“Sorry, headache-” he said, rubbing at his forehead to try and seem convincing. 

_ ‘At least  _ that’s _ still conclusive,’  _ he thought, taking a deep breath and focusing on grounding himself back into the external world. 

Before he could fully check out of Goshiki’s mind, however, he didn’t fail to notice the worried question on the tip of the younger boy’s tongue. Genuine concern for Kenjirou, that died in his mind before he said anything. He smiled softly to himself, keeping that small piece of information to himself.

After that, it only took one more excavation of Goshiki’s thoughts before Kenjirou realised he had been overthinking his approach - as usual. Sure, the kid thought a lot, and wasn’t as single minded as he seemed on first glance. Even still, it seemed that no matter what, if you wanted to befriend him, all it took was a “Hey, nice spike,” and he was practically putty in your hands. 

“Good practice tonight, Goshiki,” Kenjirou said, about a week later, coming up behind the younger boy and not at all missing his jolt of surprise. 

“Oh! Thank you, Shirabu-san!” He cried, spinning around to look at him with a soft blush on his cheeks. Kenjirou internally laughed.  _ So, so easy... _

He began getting changed next to Goshiki, trying to focus on having a normal, non-manipulated conversation. This, of course, was shockingly hard with how fucking jittery Goshiki was being. But no, it wasn’t just the mental impressions tonight - he was  _ literally  _ jittering. 

“ _ What,”  _ Kenjirou spit, turning to Goshiki while trying (and failing) not to glare at him, “is  _ wrong  _ with you?” 

“What-?” Goshiki asked; Kenjirou belatedly realised he was practically pressing himself up against the locker, like he was scared of the shorter boy. He huffed, softly reigning in his approach.

“Stop fidgeting so much,” he muttered, trying not to sound angry. Goshiki looked like he had begun to force himself to relax, but still carried on fiddling with the hem of his jersey as Kenjirou turned back to his own clothes.

“Don’t- uh,” he began. Kenjirou looked up at him. “Don’t you usually change on your own?” he asked, practically squeaking out the last words. Kenjirou merely shrugged. 

“I’m trying a new thing called being nice, is that a problem?” 

Goshiki let out a soft laugh at that, and Kenjirou didn’t miss the pulse of relief flitting through his mind.

“Nope,” he said, finally pulling his shirt off and getting changed. And Kenjirou found himself smiling. 

_ Success. _

●✧●✧●✧●

He wasn’t sure if it Tendou had anything to do with it, but befriending Goshiki had been working well for him. 

It was in tiny little things, like how Goshiki began to accept Kenjirou’s advice without too much fuss, or how he would begin to offer him sweets he had tucked away in his gym bag after practice. It was nothing  _ huge  _ or  _ groundbreaking _ , and if Kenjirou was going to have any say whatsoever in Goshiki’s love life, he had a long way to go. But that being said, it wasn’t going horribly. 

And, shockingly enough, Kenjirou didn’t find himself minding the other boy’s company as much as he thought he would. The more time he spent just talking to Goshiki, listening to his plans and ideas, accepting the stupid candies he kept giving him, watching him wave his hands around excitedly when he got good news - the more he just seemed to step into flow with the other boy. 

He had always struggled with that, in the past. With how different their personalities were - Goshiki being enthusiastic and near excessively passionate, Kenjirou being hot-headed, sure, but nonetheless quick to compose himself - it was actually a shock that the mage had lasted so long. 

Dare he admit it, the excitable chatter that always followed Goshiki’s mental state began to grow on him.

Which is why, at the start of the following week, Goshiki being generally...  _ off,  _ threw him so badly. 

He wasn’t hitting tosses that were usually perfect for him, he wasn’t focusing, and it was pissing Kenjirou the fuck off.  

‘ _ What the hell is wrong with him? _ ’ Kenjirou found himself thinking, as the younger boy apologised for a silly mistake. It was the thirteenth time that  _ hour _ .  

“What the fuck is wrong with you?” He spit, walking (read:  _ stomping _ ) closer to Goshiki, whose eyes up, blown wide. 

“I’m sorry! I’ll- I won’t make that mistake again!” He called, running to the back of the line to carry on with drills.

Kenjirou frowned, feeling something -  _ worry _ \- build in his stomach, before forcibly brushing it off as Ushijima called out for the team to rest.

“Psst, Kenji-” 

He looked up, as Tendou practically slunk over to him. 

“What?” 

“What’s wrong with Tsutomu, hm?” His friend asked, turning to look at the younger boy out of the corner of his eye. Kenjirou’s eyes followed. He was fidgeting around with his phone, not actually resting like he ought to be. Kenjirou wasn’t sure why this aggravated him so much.

“Why the hell would I know?” he muttered, taking a big gulp of his water and looking away. When he looked up again, he started at Tendou’s confused look at him. “What?” 

“Why would you  _ not  _ know?” Tendou asked; Kenjirou blinked. 

_ ‘Oh, right. I’m telepathic.’ _

“What’s wrong with  _ you _ , is the better question,” Tendou laughed, ignoring the glare the setter sent at him. As Tendou started humming to himself, Kenjirou found himself looking down at his feet, eyes not focusing.

Was he just tired? Why the hell  _ hadn’t _ he thought to read into Goshiki? 

“You’re wondering why you didn’t think to do that first, right?” Tendou hummed.

“You know, Satori, it’s really freaky that you know what I’m thinking without being telepathic,” he muttered. Tendou shrugged. 

“I also know things you don’t because you’re kinda thick!” He stage whispered. Kenjirou rolled his eyes.  _ Annoying.  _

“Like what?” 

“You two are becoming actual  _ friends _ .” he laughed.  Kenjirou frowned at him, eyebrows furrowed and lips pursed. At that, of course, Tendou only laughed harder. “Oh wow, you actually  _ didn’t _ know. Good luck with that, Kenji-kun!” he sang, before leaving the shorter boy on his own in favour of bugging Ushijima. 

_ ‘Actual friends,’  _ Kenjirou thought.  _ ‘Huh.’ _

As sad as it was, the concept was foreign to him. It was no big shock that being telepathic made it a bit difficult to make actual connections with people. 

Satori didn’t count; he had known about his powers ever since Kenjirou had. They had grown up in the same village, after all, and half the reason Kenjirou was actually at school with him was so that he would have that one magical friend to be himself around. 

But people that didn’t know; that was where things got difficult. 

Yes, he acknowledged he wasn’t the nicest person, and he accepted the fact that he would carry on snooping for information as long as he could get away with it. He genuinely did appreciate the advantages that came along with magical abilities like his own. But no matter how much he could know about what someone  _ thought _ , it never erased the insecurity that he could never know how they truly  _ felt _ . 

It was almost definitely him holding himself back. But realistically, how could you make a meaningful connection with someone when you had the potential to know everything about them before they ever told you their name? Or when you knew you had spent the first few months of knowing them for the sole purpose of using them for information? 

As it stood, he knew what everyone thought of him instantly. And it was never really a surprise that he always found himself doubting that people would ever be willing change their opinions of him. 

It was no help that their first opinions were always “Wow, he’s an asshole.”

But here Goshiki was, actually liking him, actually thinking he was  _ nice,  _ despite all the odds. Kenjirou found himself laughing quietly to himself in a harsh, self-deprecating manner, at the reminder that in doing this, in trying to be better, he had fit the bill of a manipulative asshole perfectly. For god’s sake, before even trying to befriend the boy, he was poking around his brain. 

“Shirabu-san, are you okay?”

He blinked, suddenly, not even pretending that he wasn’t shocked by how close Goshiki was to his face. 

“Jesus  _ Christ,”  _ he cursed, and Goshiki jumped back. He really did need to stop burying himself in thoughts - whether or not it was another person’s  _ or _ his own.

“Ah, sorry, Shirabu!” He said, with a soft laugh _.  _ Kenjirou did his damndest not to flush at how genuinely  _ cute _ he sounded. “You were zoning out again, but we’ve gotta get back to practice.” he said. Kenjirou nodded, noticing instantly the difference from before the break. 

“Are you feeling better?” He asked, drawing Goshiki’s attention back to him. He looked puzzled for a moment, before brightening up in understanding. 

“Yes! Sorry about earlier, Shirabu- my younger brother, he hurt himself earlier, but Ma just called to say he’s all good now, so I’m good too!” he said, words dripping in childlike excitement, ending the sentence with a beaming smile that Kenjirou felt himself mirror the slightest amount.

“You really care about your brother, huh.” he responded, humming quietly. Goshiki wavered, looking down at him hesitantly.

“Do I really talk about him that much?” He asked. Kenjirou’s eyes widened.

“Well, if you were worried enough for it to affect your play-  _ nothing  _ affects you that much.” he said, convincing himself that it was a good enough excuse. Goshiki blinked, before smiling again. ‘ _ Seemingly so.’ _

“You’re a good friend, Shirabu. You always seem to just… notice things. Like when I’m upset.”

_‘You have no idea,’_ he felt himself laugh internally. Nonetheless, he found himself tuning into the warm, fuzzy hum around Goshiki’s mind as he replayed Kenjirou’s words over to himself.

It of course dissipated when Kenjirou nonchalantly added, “You were so bad this past hour that anyone would have to be an idiot to miss it,” and carried on away from the boy to retake his place on the court. 

Still, he felt himself laugh at Goshiki’s indignant squawk of offense, and when it was his turn to run up and hit, he felt the affection ooze off of him into the air. 

He did, however, ignore the fact that he could feel it mingle with his own.

●✧●✧●✧●

Of course, it was just fucking typical to anything Kenjirou did that his luck would run out just when he started to need it.

“Well done, Goshiki,” Ushijima said, calling across the gym as he noted a particularly strong spike coming from the younger boy.

Kenjirou glanced up at that, waiting for the shrieking buzz to emanate from around him. 

He absolutely didn’t miss the burst of pride surrounding the boy, and even from his place on the other side of the net, he could just about make out his visible smile. Yet, to his surprise - laced heavily in hope - that was it from the boy. He furrowed his eyebrows, and cautiously made his way over to Goshiki. Could it be-?

“Must have been a good shot to get Ushijima’s attention,” he hummed, and Goshiki jumped, whirling around to face the other boy.

Kenjirou winced heavily at the burst of emotions coming from him as as he did so, and when Goshiki looked down at Kenjirou, he found him with his eyes squeezed shut and hand to his forehead.

“Shirabu-san?”

“Headache,” he forced out between tightly gritted teeth, eyes widely staring into the palm of his hand.  _ ‘Oh no,’ _

“Are you okay? Do you need water? Shirabu?”

“I get chronic headaches,” he spit out, “stop talking.” 

His mind was still too busy focusing on the receding emotions Goshiki had practically exploded with upon hearing Kenjirou come up behind him. Sure, now he was overcome with a burst of worry at the pain in his setter’s voice, but everything before that was unmistakable. Nerves, confusion, affection, admiration-

_ ‘No, no, no-’  _ Kenjirou repeated to himself, squinting down at the hardwood floor as his mind raced through what Goshiki was thinking. 

“Do you need to go outside?” Goshiki asked, voice quiet, like he knew he shouldn’t be speaking but was doing it anyway. 

“Fuck- yeah, fine- tell Ushijima I- headache,” Kenjirou muttered with a wave of his hand, sparing one final glance up at Goshiki before spinning on his heels and huffing out towards the door. Before heading to the door of the sports hall, however, he made a grab at the flash of far too red hair dancing in the corner of his vision. Tendou squawked as the smaller boy grabbed him by the arm and dragged him out the door with him, before it turned into annoying chuckles that did nothing but grate on Kenjirou’s already fried nerves. He was annoyed enough as it was, but he’d be damned if Satori didn’t have something to answer for.

“Aw, if you wanted me to yourself you only needed to ask!” 

_ “Satori,”  _ he hissed, as they finally stopped in a little alcove just outside the gym, arms crossed and glaring near murderously up at his friend. “What the fuck is going on?”

“C’mon, Kenji,” he replied, laughing lightly at the twitch in the smaller boy’s eye at the nickname. It looks like he had guessed where this was heading after all. “You know that this is all  _ chance _ , it’s not going to go your way forever!” 

“Yes, but there’s a difference between me getting unlucky and saying something stupid, versus him developing feelings for  _ me!”  _ He yelled, immediately clamping his mouth shut and praying no one heard. His luck was poor enough as it was, he didn’t need extra prying ears.

Even still, he was near angry enough to let it be. This had absolutely  _ not  _ been part of the plan, no way. The plan had been to get closer to Goshiki so he could worm his way into suggesting something for his own benefit. He would shift the crush off of Ushijima and onto some random gay first year that he could have a shot with! It had  _ not  _ been to get so close that the fucking crush shifts onto him! 

He had been so pleased when he noticed Goshiki’s excited thoughts toning down around their captain: it had been such a good sign! But no, he tuned in to feel those stupidly telling emotions directed at the entirely  _ wrong _ person. 

His irritation simply grew as Tendou continued to laugh at him and his worry. 

“Well, there’s a difference between helping a friend and meddling, Kenjirou, and you are definitely  _ meddling. _ ” 

Kenjirou groaned, letting his arms unfold and dropping his face into his hands, yelling softly and kicking his foot. 

“This is the absolute  _ worst,”  _ he groaned. “ _ I  _ am the worst-” 

To his annoyance, but not to his surprise, Tendou hummed in agreement. He just  _ knew  _ the shit was nodding...  

“It’s morally wrong if you’re using your powers to make him like you because  _ you _ like him,” Tendou carried on, and Kenjirou stilled, holding his breath for a beat. What was the chance Tendou could figure it out-

“So you’re fine!” He sang, and Kenjirou put all his effort into not making his sigh of relief noticeable. 

(Of course, he still did run his mind through Tendou’s to check he truly had guessed wrong, not relaxing fully until he followed his thoughts and came to the same, and thankfully wrong, conclusion.)

As Tendou ruffled his hair and practically danced away, out of the alcove, Kenjirou let himself lean heavily against the wall. 

The truth was, it wasn’t the case that he  _ liked  _ Goshiki. Rather, he simply didn’t know how he felt. Either way, he couldn't flat out deny that he felt  _ something,  _ and that was enough of a problem. 

With a groan, he flopped his head back against the wall with a heavy thud. 

“This is bad,” he muttered to himself, picking at the grass beneath him. “This is  _ so  _ bad.” 

This was how luck manipulation worked; Tendou had explained it to him once, when they were younger, but he had really only just remembered it was a thing. Something about luck needing to balance out at the end, and if he made someone  _ too  _ lucky, they’d eventually get a long spell of bad luck to even it out. 

Kenjirou always imagined it was stupid stuff like slipping on ice, or having your fruit go off before you could eat it. Not making some first year have a crush on you, and then actually starting to worry about hurting the stupid kid. 

After that, Kenjirou made the decision never to thank Tendou again.

●✧●✧●✧●

Weeks passed, and what he had noticed Goshiki feeling was not an anomaly. Swallowing his morality, Kenjirou had pressed into Goshiki’s at any chance he got, only to com to the same frustrating conclusion. His perception of Kenjirou shuffled through different veins of thought, sure - one day he’d be thinking about how he was a good friend despite the odds, the next he’d be circling around how strong a player he was. 

It was an awful case infatuation, Kenjirou reasoned, after one morning Goshiki spent blushing continuously and avoiding him in the changing room. He didn’t even  _ want  _ to dive into what concrete thoughts were swirling around that brain of his. But nonetheless, it didn’t seem to lessen whatsoever, and more than anything, it was stressful. 

Because while Goshiki had decisively figured out that he liked Kenjirou - whether or not that was contestable - Kenjirou was no closer to figuring out how he felt. It didn’t help that he couldn’t clearly see how Goshiki felt. If it was simple, childish infatuation, he didn’t want to even entertain the idea of it. But if it wasn’t…

Clearly, any bad luck that was residual from what Tendou had done in helping him had  _ not  _ worn off.

Weeks after he first noticed how Goshiki felt, he lay in bed listening to his own loud thoughts play over and over and over on repeat, cycling viciously through his brain. He stared at the charm in the dark, where it hung by his door, silently cursing it’s knock on effects on his sanity. Glaring, his mind began to wander through the advice his sister had given over the years, before falling softly on one particular instance. 

_ “Be careful with sharing what you find out about people, okay?” she muttered. “They won’t always want you to know things that you’ll have come across.” _

_ “But what do you do with it?” he had asked back. She merely smiled at him. _

_ “You’ve just gotta keep it in, and hope you don’t end up hurting them.” _

To this day, he was still a little bit unsure of what had happen to bring about this advice, but he had never forgotten the message. 

Were his feelings towards Goshiki for the boy he had put together in his head, that thought about his brother when he ate a particular meal, or balanced so many thoughts at the same time because he was just  _ that _ excited? Or were they for the boy who spouted shit about being the ace, waved his hands arounds while he talked and kept candy in his gym bag?

Was there even a difference? 

He huffed a sigh. He hated being trapped in complete quiet after a noisy, busy day. The normal people that had to deal with this all the time didn’t get enough credit. 

Pushing himself out of bed, he opened the door to his dorm room, making his way downstairs and to the courtyard between blocks. A glance at his phone showed it was nearing 1 am, and being a Wednesday, he doubted that there would even be anyone around. But it was better than being physically trapped in his own head.  

He sat down at one of the picnic tables in the centre, tapping away at a stupid game he had saved on his phone. At least out here he could hear the hum of people from the rooms around him. It was warm out, and enough windows were open that he could get soft impressions of people’s dreams, or of the frantic panic coursing around kids cramming for quizzes. 

“Shirabu-san?”

He looked up, caught off guard. He hadn’t been expecting anyone, let alone-

Goshiki smiled at him softly, and the smile was the first thing Kenjirou noticed. 

The second thing, of course, being that the stupid kid wore  _ volleyball themed pyjamas.  _

In his defense, Kenjirou was very tired, and  _ very  _ stressed, and hey - he was an asshole. 

“Wh- Why are you laughing?” Goshiki cried indignantly, face flushing, seconds away from stamping his foot like a child. 

“You-  _ ha!  _ Volleyball themed pyjamas? Really?” Kenjirou managed, between bursts of laughter. Goshiki pouted.  _ Pouted! _

“Well, your t-shirt is covered in fish!” Goshiki retorted, grasping at straws; at this point, Kenjirou was not at all ignoring the soft blush covering the other boy’s face, and he felt himself begin to smile at that fact in itself. God, he was a wreck, and it was all this  _ stupid boys  _ fault. 

“It’s whitebait, because that’s my favourite food,” he got out, for lack of anything better to say. Was he really that tired? Or had he just gone insane after being left alone with his own thoughts for so long? Goshiki raised his eyebrows, seeming to wonder a similar sort of thing. 

“Mine is boiled flounder,” he replied. “My favourite food, I mean. My t-shirt has a volleyball on it. Obviously.”

And then, they were both laughing - gut busting and thoroughly ridiculous laughter, because of the sheer absurdity of the situation. It was 1 am, they were outside for no explicable reason, and they were discussing their favourite fish to eat. 

Kenjirou hadn’t felt this calm in as long he could remember. There weren’t anyone else’s emotions or thoughts to worry about - no, it was  _ his own  _ emotions, fully free. It wasn’t anything like being stuck in a quiet room with only his own thoughts, it was being around other people and  _ feeling _ things. And more than that, it was actually being comfortable about feeling things, just because he could. 

With a belated tug at the back of his mind, he realised that recently, he had only ever seemed to feel this way around Goshiki.

“Are you gonna sit down or what?” Kenjirou finally said, letting out a breath and final laugh and nodding at the empty seats across the table from him. He offhandedly noticed the equivalent of a mental blush coming off of the younger boy, before pushing it away.

“Why are you still up, Shirabu-san?” He asked, tapping his fingers against the table in a soft rhythm.

“Couldn’t sleep. It was too quiet,” he hummed. “Why are you up?” 

“I was studying. I came down to find the vending machine and get food.” he responded. They digressed into silence, then, and Kenjirou felt himself take in a sharp inhale of breath. 

Something had shifted. It wasn’t the ridiculous, bubbly laughter and happiness that had been there a moment ago. It wasn’t the elation he had felt himself about being at ease around the other boy. 

Goshiki had gotten  _ nervous.  _

_ ‘He’s realised we’re completely alone,’  _ he noted, giving the younger boy a look. He was now focusing intently on his fingers as they tapped out a seemingly senseless pattern against the wood.  _ ‘Or was it me who noticed it?’  _

Either way, he reasoned, they were alone, and Goshiki was nervous. And that made him nervous.

“Are you nervous?” Kenjirou felt himself asking, mentally chiding himself for bringing it up. Goshiki blinked up at him, confusion furrowing at his brow. 

“Uh- n-not really,” he muttered, looking at Kenjirou.  _ He’s lying,  _ he decided, but didn’t press it further. 

“Maybe a little bit,” he carried on, suddenly, and Kenjirou rose an eyebrow at him. “You’re pretty observant, aren’t you?” He asked. Kenjirou simply gave a soft shrug.

“I’ve been told so,” he responded. Goshiki hummed. As they relapsed into another, now slightly anxious silence, Kenjirou began to realise how little he had actually been using telepathy on Goshiki.

He could know  _ exactly  _ what was making the boy across from him nervous, but he hadn’t even bothered. Well, he had a good enough sense of what it was anyway, but more than that, prying just seemed wrong. And further still, it seemed unnecessary.  

Not only did he not  _ need  _ to be reliant on reading minds, he didn’t  _ want _ to be. Not when it came to Goshiki, at least.

Goshiki was an outlier. Goshiki was different _.  _ And, fundamentally, Goshiki was just-

He let out a soft inhale, as he realised just what it was about Goshiki that made him feel this way.

Goshiki was  _ special to him.    _

But now, he was sucking in a gasp of breath, drawing Kenjirou’s attention to him, and spitting out: “I need to tell you a secret.”

Kenjirou blinked, dread and nerves filling his body as the last of the easy mood between them faded away. Because he  _ knew,  _ he knew what he was going to say and it wasn’t going to be something he knew how to answer and he already  _ knew it,  _ he didn’t want to hear it outloud and make it real, god damn it-

“What’s that?” was all he said, ignoring the beating in his chest and internally kicking himself.

_ ‘Shut it down, Kenjirou, shut it down-’ _

He couldn’t go on not talking to people, he couldn’t rely on snooping and prying anymore, he didn’t  _ want to.  _ He didn’t want to keep this secret anymore, he realised with a jolt, and the more Goshiki sat building up the courage to spit out what he was going to say, the more Kenjirou realised he was the only one he trusted enough to tell. He had to tell _ him _ -

“I, sort of, maybe like you? Like, it’s not- it’s not  _ huge,  _ I suppose, but it’s relevant and I felt bad not keeping it a secret, and I don’t want you to be uncomfortable, because obviously you’re a guy and I’m a guy and-”

“I know, Goshiki,” he breathed out. And just like that, both their secrets were out in the open, irrevocably.

Goshiki blinked up at him.

“You know I’m a guy? I mean, I would have thought-”

Kenjirou rolled his eyes, huffing out a sigh before taking a deep breath, slowing his thoughts and doing his damndest to ground himself.

“No, as in- I know that you like me,” he muttered, before realising how awful it sounded. It was 1 am. They had been laughing harder than Kenjirou knew was possible mere minutes ago. And Goshiki had just professed he had a crush on him.

Chancing a look at Goshiki, and seeing nothing but hurt confusion, he realised that this would take a lot of explaining.

“Did- oh. Did someone- tell you?” He muttered, voice quiet. Quiet, and  _ hurt. _

Kenjirou blinked, eyes scrunched closed for a second at the instantaneous shift of emotion in the air. It had moved from nervous to  _ pained,  _ and, dear god, had he fucked up-

“No, Goshiki,  _ no,  _ it’s- it’s really hard to explain, okay? I’m-”

“I didn’t  _ tell  _ anyone,” he whispered, voice on the verge of tears, and Kenjirou let his eyes fall closed.  _ ‘Fuck.’ _

“Just, listen for a second, okay?” He asked, reaching across the table and grabbing onto Goshiki’s hand, where it had taken to tapping at the wood again, now definitely anxious. Goshiki looked up at him, and Kenjirou could hardly stand to look him in the eye.

“I- damn it, I know you won’t believe me, but  _ no one told me,  _ okay? I promise. It’s just- I’m- I’m sort of- telepathic?” He said, voice trailing off as he realised just how fucking idiotic he sounded. The spell of bad luck had  _ definitely  _ not worn off.

“You don’t need to lie, Shirabu-san,” he muttered. “I just- I’d rather you just tell me how you found out.”

Kenjirou huffed out a low breath. “Listen to me, you idiot, and try to believe me, okay?” He spit. Goshiki furrowed his eyebrows.  “Like, okay- you’ve got two brothers, one’s older, one’s younger, they both play soccer, and the one that got into an accident, the kid, that was because he fell off his bicycle-”

“How do you  _ know  _ that?” Goshiki exclaimed, pulling his hand away from under Kenjirou’s and raising his arms up in exasperation.

“I just  _ told you!” _

“Shirabu-”

“And right now, you’re just thinking that it must have been your stupid roommate snooping around your texts and telling the volleyball team so we could all laugh at you!” Kenjirou yelled, genuinely this time, as he slammed his hands down on the table with a loud smack.

Goshiki blinked, eyes wide, and the courtyard fell silent.

With a shock, Kenjirou noticed that it wasn't just the space around them- no, his mind had suddenly,  _ finally,  _ fell totally quiet. Goshiki was very carefully not feeling  _ anything. _

“Oh,” Goshiki mumbled, looking down his hands. His face turned red, and the air around him slowly shifted back into feeling: to complete mortification.

“I- My village, it’s in the mountains - there’s a small village of mages-”

“That’s fine, Shirabu-san,” Goshiki muttered.

“I’m trying to stop, Goshiki-” Kenjirou tried, and Goshiki shrugged.

“I’m sorry you found out about how I felt right away,” was all he responded with, standing up and distinctly not looking Kenjirou in the eye, or at all.

“Goshiki-”

“It’s- It’s fine, Shirabu-san. Really,” he mumbled, glancing at him once and giving him a small smile, before nodding and moving to turn around. Before he left, however, he stopped, glancing at Kenjirou.

“Uh- please don’t bring this up, tomorrow,” he said, with a soft,  _ heartbreaking  _ laugh. Kenjirou frowned.

“Goshiki-”

“Please?” He muttered, voice cracking. Kenjirou stopped, realising he had no other choice but to nod. He watched as the boy in front of him nodded back, giving him another tiny smile and turning to walk back to his dorm.

Telepathy or not, Kenjirou absolutely did not miss his shaking shoulders, or how he brought his hands up to wipe at his eyes.

“I’m an awful person,” he said, to himself, quietly.

●✧●✧●✧●

“Kenjirou, for god’s sake, it’s 2am, what are-”

“Onee-chan?”

“Kenji?”

“I- I really messed up, onee-chan,”

“Kenji- Kenji, are you crying? What’s wrong?”

“I- was trying to help, and I-”

“Kenji, it’s okay, breathe deep for me- Kenji, listen-”

“H-he liked me, and I- he  _ told _ me-”

“Listen, Kenji. Kenjirou. Listen to me. Are you there?”

“Y-yeah,”

“I’m going to go get dressed and get a train down to the city, and we can talk it out, alright?”

“Yeah,”

“We can talk on the way, okay, if you want. But if you can fall asleep, do that, and I’ll be there before you know it. Okay?”

“Yeah-”

“It’ll be okay, Kenji. I love you,”

“I love you too, onee-chan.”

“Try to go to sleep.”

“Y-yeah…”

●✧●✧●✧●

He sent a text to Kawanishi to tell him his headaches had gotten bad, and because of it he hadn’t been able to get any rest the night before, so he was still feeling shitty. He wouldn’t be going to practice, he wouldn’t be making it to lessons.

After years of dealing with the shock of loud emotions and impressions, everyone had assumed he got chronic headaches, and he had never corrected them. It had always been easier than explaining he was telepathic - which  _ clearly  _ did not end well - and it was easier than saying he was skipping school to meet his sister and cry.

He doubted there would be a problem - teachers loved him, after all - and if there was, he did not give one single fuck.

And so, after waking up and sending off the excuse that others had essentially created for him, he made his way to the train station and sat, waiting for his sister to find him.

He hugged her for a solid three minutes when she did, tight enough to squeeze out any upset emotions, and she let him. She didn’t even ask him to start explaining, choosing instead to quietly pet his hair and give him to occasional kiss atop his head to calm him down.

“Kenji, I can’t read minds like you, so you need to actually tell me what’s the matter,” she said with a soft chuckle, as they made their way to a small, greasy diner at the edge of the town for food. He huffed out a hurt laugh, and kicked a stone in the pebbly path ahead of him.

He told her the events of the past few months over a large and deeply unhealthy breakfast designed to cheer him up and soften the blow of the frankly disastrous events of last night. He rounded off the story of the night before, finally reaching the part where he had relentlessly rung her cellphone at 2am, face dripping in tears, ringing until she finally, groggily woke up. At the end of his story, she simply sighed.

“Oh, Kenji,” she muttered. He laughed unhappily, poking at a fried egg with his chopsticks until the yolk tore.

“I’m an awful person, aren’t I?” He said. She tutted, looking up at him to give him a glare.

“You are  _ not,”  _ she chided. “And you never will be.” He merelyhummed. “You’re just- ah, you say some dumb shit, alright?”

He smiled, finally genuine, even if he still focused his eyes on his food. Nonetheless, he could feel the air around her shift as she smiled back.

“Did you ever think that communicating like a normal person rather than continually trying to cheat the system would be more effective?” She asked, after a beat of silence. At this, he finally looked up, if only to give her a puzzled look.

“What?”

She sighed, rolling her eyes. He tutted as he felt the sarcasm roll off her in waves. “I think this is what everyone at home wanted you to achieve when they suggested you grow up like a normal kid.”

He furrowed his eyebrows, giving her a look.

“The hell d’you mean?” he mumbled, mouth full of egg.

“As in, normal people don’t snoop into people’s heads when they want to help, or when they have a problem. They  _ communicate.  _ And sure, telepathy is an advantage sometimes, but it’s hardly a good plan to use it as a replacement.”

He set down his chopsticks.  

“So, you mean-”

“Go talk to your stupid boyfriend and work things out like a normal person!” she huffed, practically yelling, reaching across the table and hitting him on the head with his own cutlery. He frowned.

“Nee-chan-”

“ _ And,” _ she began, cutting him off before he could respond. “Stop feeling so guilty.”

He blinked up at her, and got a soft smile in return.

“I can read impressions too, dummy,” she laughed. “You don’t need to feel guilty about calling me last night,  _ or  _ about what you said to that boy.”

“But-”

“No buts, Kenji!” She huffed, crossing her arms. “If you’re truly guilty, you can pay for this meal. Otherwise, hush.”

He spared a glance at the collection of drinks and dishes across the table, and frowned.

“I don’t have a job, nee-chan.”

“Well, I do, so I guess that means you’re going to shut up and stop with the regret!”

Kenjirou blinked, looking at her with a small, shocked expression before smiling and nodding with a soft laugh.

“Thanks, nee-chan,” he said; in return, she merely reached back across the table and ruffled his hair.

●✧●✧●✧●

He skipped practice the next day as well, maintaining the excuse that he wasn’t feeling great, although he did make it to lessons, giving Kawanishi an appreciative thank you as he did. 

**_to: guess who_ **

you dont think you can give me a little bit more luck, do you?

**_to: kenji~~~~_ ** ✧

are u that desperate, kenji-kun?

**_to: guess who_ **

yes. 

yes i am.

**_to: kenji~~~~_ ** ✧

(ﾟロﾟ) !!!!

oh myyyyy~~~!!!!

**_to: guess who_ **

pls

**_to: kenji~~~~_ ** ✧

oh kenji~

ill see what i can do <3<3<3<3

Strictly speaking, Satori worked in terms of  _ chance,  _ so there was always the possibility none of his efforts would work. Hell, there was always the chance that he didn’t actually get around to it, and this was just Kenjirou’s natural luck - or unluck - coming through. 

But, nonetheless, here he was in the clubroom, at a time of day when almost everyone was always guaranteed to be somewhere else. 

Everyone, it seemed, except Kenjirou and Goshiki. 

“Ah, hello, Shirabu-san,” the younger boy mumbled, shutting his locker with a click. 

“Goshiki- I didn’t think you’d be here,” he said, genuinely confused. Sure, he had wanted to talk to him, but couldn’t he at least have found him  _ after _ he had a chance to plan what to say?

“Ah, yeah, I forgot my books in my locker this morning,” he muttered. 

Kenjirou bit his lip.  _ ‘I may as well bite the bullet while I have the chance,’  _ he thought to himself.

“Can I- can we talk?” he tried, voice softer than he would have liked. 

“Shirabu-san, I really don’t think that…” Goshiki began, trailing off and averting his gaze as Kenjirou approached him and glared up at his face. Begrudgingly, he looked down at him with a soft smile, before stepping backwards to try and make his way to the door.

“Goshiki, c’mon,” Kenjirou tried, pressing him to look back at him - no matter how unhappy he seemed to be at that fact. “Just, say something-?”

“Shirabu-san, I don’t really have anything to say,” he mumbled. Kenjirou huffed out a harsh laugh.

“Damn it, I told you I can read minds, I can tell you’re lying,” he spit. Yes, he hated that his default emotion to go to was anger,  _ especially  _ if it was Goshiki he was talking to. He hadn’t even meant to sound as fiery as he had, but nonetheless, he had said what he said, and if it would get a reaction-

He was thoroughly taken off guard when the air around him took a turn from quiet hurt to full anger.

“ _ Fuck-”  _ he spit, bringing his hand to his head: his forehead throbbed.

“Well, if you can read minds than you can realise I don’t like you digging around in my head without my permission!” Goshiki cried- no,  _ yelled _ . Amidst the burn of the headache, Kenjirou squinted up at the boy in front of him, completely and utterly shocked. When had he ever seen Goshiki angry-?

“What do you even know about me?” the younger boy carried on. 

“What-”

“Go on, Shirabu! If you want answers, go through my head and figure it out!” he huffed out, crossing his arms, still  _ fuming.   _

“Are you  _ serious?”  _ He asked, and, to his surprise, Goshiki nodded, practically glaring, raising his chin and practically sticking out his bottom lip, as if making a point.

Beneath the anger, Kenjirou could feel the anxiety radiating around him: he was putting all his energy into this, he realised, just to cover up the hurt, and more than that, the _ fear.  _ Fear of what, Kenjirou didn’t know, but given how stubborn Goshiki was being, and how quickly he had exploded, he figured he would be finding out.

The first thing he picked up on threw him back to the train ride at the beginning of the term, right after their break. When he had noticed how Goshiki felt towards Ushijima, he realised, softly.

_ ‘He’s so cool, and strong, and powerful-’ _

It was Goshiki’s voice, he noted. That happened, sometimes, when the thoughts he picked out were practically monologues from the person’s mind. But as it was now, it was like Goshiki - the Goshiki that stood in the clubroom with Kenjirou - was telling him directly.

With that in mind, and a deep breath to focus, Kenjirou began to follow his words back, along well worn paths in Goshiki’s mind, all the way back to the Inter-Highs.  _ Goshiki’s first official game,  _ he realised belatedly. Surely that game must have been a lot of new sensations for him, but more than anything, what stuck out the most in his memories was how he remembered Ushijima.

Bringing them to nationals, scoring incessantly, beating Seijoh near effortlessly thanks to him. And there was Goshiki, standing below every spike ready to follow up on a block, watching his midair form in absolute awe.

Before he could dwell on just how favourably Goshiki had seen Ushijima, Kenjirou found himself being dragged back further. He gasped in a breath, at just how quickly everything had changed, at how out of control he felt. It wasn’t like the other boy was trying to show him things, but rather, they had been worrying away at his mind for some time now, and it was inevitable that anyone looking his head would fall into them.

_ ‘Tsutomu! Be careful!’ _

It was a woman’s voice, his mother? Kenjirou blinked, and there he was, the tiny - and god, was he  _ tiny -  _ child, chasing after an older boy, running after friends into a large field, ball in hand.

Before the tiny Tsutomu could chase his brother, he was grabbed from behind, and Kenjirou felt the absolutely undeniable feeling of hurt replay through the childhood memory. It wasn’t only hurt of him as a toddler, but compound hurt added on now as a teenager.

By the look of the woman who had grabbed him - his mother - she was pregnant.  _ ‘His younger brother,’  _ Kenjirou realised, slowly. Everything was moving so fast, constantly shifting and changing - like Goshiki controlling any of it either. Like once the memories started, they just wouldn’t  _ stop. _

In the irony of that realisation, the setting changed again. This time the image was foggy, unclear, but the same woman’s voice played crystal clear through his head. Not directed at Tsutomu, but overheard.  _ Those always hurt the most- _

“He’s so small, he’ll get hurt-”

“Just let him have fun and play games, he wants to be like his brother!”

“His brother is strong and healthy! Tsutomu  _ isn’t!”  _ She yelled. Kenjirou blinked, taking in her words. Sure, he was sort of skinny, but-

He gasped, as the memories changed again, to when Tsutomu was older.  _ Still tiny _ , Kenjirou noted, frowning slightly at the little boy. Who knew how young he was, or how long it had beem. They were on a sports field - Shiratorizawa’s, he realised, where the middle school kids played matches for soccer, rugby, hockey.

A cheer burst out from around the field, and drew his attention away from the needless detail. Looking up, Shirabu noted another boy - the name ‘GOSHIKI’ printed across his jersey - doing what seemed like a victory lap around the pitch. Around him, he heard muddled praise for  _ that brilliant Goshiki!,  _ how he was  _ such a strong boy!,  _ on and on and on and on-

His frown deepened. Memories could be fabricated, and made worse; he knew that very well by now. It seemed unlikely that there would have been this much cheer at one stupid middle school game. But with a haunting realisation, he sucked in a breath, looking down at the frowning, scrawny boy -  _ Tsutomu.  _ How often had he had to hear this kind of talk about his brother? Even worse, had he ever heard it about  _ himself? _

As Kenjirou began to piece together the link between Ushijima, his brother, his incessant desire to be ace- they shifted, again, but now to somewhere more recent.

Kenjirou blinked, looking at the back of - his own head? It was the same light brown hair, the number 10 across his back, ‘SHIRABU’ printed in purple letters. He - the version in Goshiki’s memory - turned around, giving a smile to- well, to Goshiki, and the burst of affection swirling around his head rivalled no other.

_ ‘I remember this,’  _ he thought to himself,  _ ‘This was when his little brother got hurt-’ _

He practically kicked himself in his realisation. How much he had worried over his brother - he didn’t want him to grow up coddled and kept from life like he had, and he was trapped in a cycle between worrying and wanting to avoid doing just that, wishing simply that he could be  _ healthy  _ where he hadn’t been. But that wasn’t the focus of this memory, no-

_ ‘He’s so cool, and strong, and smart, and he’s even nice to me! He’s worrying about my lil bro- he’s so-’ _

With a gasp, he threw himself back, sucking in deep breaths until he was back in his own head, grounded in his own thoughts. In the clubroom. With Goshiki.

He threw his head up, looking up with wide eyes at where Goshiki stood, arms crossed and tears budding in the corners of his eyes.

He had  _ never  _ read that far into anyone. Never. It was always easiest to go off the impressions he felt naturally, and then reading into what the person thought in relation to each separate feeling. And with Goshiki - Goshiki only ever had ‘improve!’ or ‘be the best!’ on his mind, especially when it came to sports. And sure, he figured that the admiration he had for Ushijima, and  _ maybe  _ for Kenjirou, was related to sports, but he would have never,  _ never  _ guessed that it was all resulting from-

“But-” he stammered, looking at Goshiki again, who had begun to kick his scuffed shoe against the floor, making a decisive effort to look away from Kenjirou. “But you’re  _ brilliant!”  _ he practically yelled. At this, Goshiki looked up, clearly not expecting that to have been the first thing Kenjirou said. He blinked at him with wide eyes as a soft blush began to coat his cheeks.

“What?”

“You’re a great player- for god’s sake, Tsutomu, you made it onto the starting line up of  _ Shiratorizawa _ in your first year. You got to nationals!” he carried on. Goshiki blinked at him owlishly. “Whenever I’m a dick it’s because I know you could be even better but you always run your mouth about being the ace before you even work towards it-”

“Shirabu-san-”

“But you’ve-  _ fuck,”  _ he laughed, as he began to run his thought process all the way through and come to the sharp realisation of exactly what the outcome was. “You’ve never relaxed enough around me let me see anything but the excitement and passion. You- you weren’t comfortable enough with me to let yourself be insecure,” he said, tapering off to a quiet mutter as he finished the sentence.

Goshiki laughed, softly, hugging his arms tighter to himself.

“I mean- no, not really…” He muttered, looking at the ground. Kenjirou frowned.

“Goshiki,” Kenjirou said, drawing the boys attention to himself again half heartedly, before stepping forward into the other boy’s space and  _ finally _ making him look directly at him.

“Goshiki, I’m  _ sorry _ ,” he began. “Honestly. I’ll be the first to admit that I’ve been a dick.” he said, staring at Goshiki intently.

“I mean, sort of, but you usually are,” he finally replied, with a laugh. Kenjirou’s eyes widened. He had not expected the sass, and let out an indignant squawk regardless.

“You little shit,” he muttered. “I’m still going to stop with the meddling, even if you’re gonna be annoying.”

“What do you mean?” Goshiki asked, suddenly more so curious than anything else. At the room’s shift into a positive emotion, Kenjirou felt himself physically relax, letting out a deep sigh. Goshiki rose an eyebrow. “What was that?”

“I’ll explain later,” he muttered, with a wave of his hand. He still had so much to explain,  _ fuck.  _ “It’s just that, this all started because -  _ god,  _ I sound like an ass - I noticed how you felt about Ushijima, and didn’t want you getting hurt when you realised he wouldn’t feel the same, so I thought I could just, like, move you away from before then. But I didn’t think it’d be to  _ me,  _ and, well. Here we are, I guess.”

He trailed off, realising very quickly that his explanation sounded distinctly lacklustre, but also noting softly that there wasn’t so much hurt filling the room anymore. At that realisation, he looked up, surprised to meet Goshiki’s eyes and incredibly flushed face.

“O-oh,” he mumbled, eyebrows rising up on his forehead in surprise. “You wanted to help me?”

“I mean, yeah,” Kenjirou muttered, eyebrows furrowing slightly. “Of course. You annoy me, but I didn’t want you to get hurt for no reason. Is that what you stuck on in that entire explanation?”

Goshiki allowed himself to let out a small laugh, but didn’t say anymore. Kenjirou could feel something on the tip of his tongue, but left it, not even wanting to entertain the notion of prying into Goshiki’s mind anymore. 

“But-” Goshiki began, before cutting himself off with a hum, as if he changed his mind. Noticing Goshiki’s threatening glare, however, he continued, softer this time. “You- you still don’t like me back like  _ that _ , though, do you...” he muttered. Kenjirou sighed. 

“It’s confusing, Goshiki,” he mumbled. Goshiki laughed, awkwardly, but Kenjirou continued. “I mean, did you ever genuinely like me?” 

At this, the other boy gave him a questioning look, eyebrows knitted together. 

“It just- it all seemed like infatuation, Goshiki,” he continued. He wasn’t even sure how much he wanted to know the answer, but all of a sudden it was as if he couldn’t bring himself to stop. “You always seemed like you wanted to _be_ _like_ me, rather than you actually _liked_ me. A-and you admired me, sure, and Ushijima, but it was- it wasn’t genuine, was it? Was it?”

He looked up when he finished speaking, and was surprised to find Goshiki looking just as confused as when he had begun. The air around him, even, was more muddy shock than anything else. Kenjirou blinked, feeling himself grow just as confused. 

“Goshiki?”

“I-”

Kenjirou rolled his eyes. ‘G _ reat,’  _ he thought.  _ ‘I’ve broken him.’  _

“Goshiki-”

“We were friends, Shirabu,” he mumbled, and Kenjirou felt himself mirroring the confused jumble in the other boy’s mind. “You- you were reading my mind for how long? You must have been able to tell that it wasn’t just some kiddie crush.” 

“What?”

“How could you have only ever picked up on the admiration?” Goshiki practically shrieked, and Kenjirou stared at him. “You can _read_ _minds,_ and you’re still just as oblivious!” 

“Hey now-” Kenjirou started, eyebrow twitching. The little  _ brat-  _

“I mean, yeah, I wasn’t comfortable enough around you to be insecure, because I didn’t wanna scare you off, because I  _ liked _ you!” He carried on, raising his hands into the air and waving them around a little bit.

‘ _ Back to the endearing habits, I see-’  _ Kenjirou noted, before noting what he had actually said with growing surprise, and a growing blush. 

“Oh,” Kenjirou was all he said, muttered softly and effectively stopping his train of thought. As he focused more on Goshiki, he felt embarrassment run through him, accentuated by the blush beginning to coat his face. With horror, Kenjirou began to feel his own face begin to do the same.

“But, uh-”

“What?” Kenjirou grumbled, trying to will the flush in his face to disappear. It wasn’t working. 

“You, uh- you never explained how you felt, Shirabu,” he began, and Kenjirou let his eyes fall closed. “Aside from ‘confusing’, which isn’t really, helpful, or anything-”

“God damn it, Goshiki-”

“Wha-?”

“Would I be this upset if I didn’t?” He spit, on the verge of yelling at the boy again. He merely blinked down at him, as if he was turning everything he had heard in the past hour over in his mind.

“So, wait-”

“Yes, I like you, you stupid idiot!” Kenjirou cried, and Goshiki’s eyes went wide. 

At that, Kenjirou felt the final straw being plucked, and then he was laughing, just like the other night: out of pure hysterical. He spared a glance up at the gobsmacked expression on Goshiki’s face as he stared down at him. Like he only just begun to notice the laughter coming from the other boy, and, to Kenjirou’s deep seated amusement, he pouted -  _ pouted! _

“Are you- are you okay?”

Kenjirou let out another bark of laughter, dropping his forehead to his hand.

“I’m fine, dumbass,” he mumbled, after a moment when laughter in his chest finally began to die down. He sighed, dropping his head forward and starting as he realised it didn’t just flop, but came to a stop against something hard. 

Had Goshiki always been that close?

And there it was, practically following the same course as the night in the courtyard, but hopefully ending in less tears. The room turned to flip into nerves. As Goshiki finally put together what Kenjirou had said. As Goshiki realised they were alone. As Goshiki realised there were no more secrets left out in the open.

Only, this time, Kenjirou could conclusively say that Goshiki wasn’t the only one who was nervous. 

“So-”

“Yeah.”

“Hm,” Goshiki hummed. Kenjirou awkwardly sat back up, away from Goshiki’s shoulder- chest-  _ whatever _ he had leant his head against and trying his damndest not to think too hard about anything. 

“By the way, Goshiki-” Kenjirou began, replaying their earlier conversation in his mind as everything caught up to him. Maybe he was trying to distract himself, maybe he was testing just how far gone Goshiki was. “I stopped reading into your thoughts well before the other night.” 

“What?” He asked, nerves fading marginally as he worked his head around what Kenjirou was trying to say. Kenjirou smiled as he realised it wasn’t really confusion, more so... preoccupation with other thoughts. 

“I mean, apart from when I told you I was telepathic- I was already trying to stop prying, idiot.”

“Oh,” he mumbled, otherwise silent; fundamentally, still not focusing on what he was saying. “That’s- thanks, Shirabu.”

Shirabu chanced a glance back up at Goshiki.

“You’re nervous,” he muttered. Goshiki jumped, looking down at him and meeting his gaze. Very quickly, he looked away again. 

“A-am I?” 

“Even if I  _ wasn’t  _ telepathic, I could tell, idiot,” he laughed. Goshiki smiled, a small little thing, hardly  _ at  _ Kenjirou, but there nonetheless. “Your heart beats really loudly when you’re nervous.” 

At that, he poked his finger into Goshiki’s chest, and watched the flush crawl up the other boys neck as the smile dropped into a small gap between his lips.

Yes,  _ okay _ , he was an asshole. That much had been established.  _ ‘You would have to be an idiot not to realise what’s on his mind,’  _ he thought to himself with a chuckle. At this point, he was just teasing - but at least it wasn’t  _ meddling _ , as Tendou had been quick to point out.

“Ah, I guess I am,” he mumbled, glancing up at the ceiling. 

“Mm, and you also don’t look at me,” he hummed, practically standing on his tiptoes to get Goshiki’s attention back onto him. Although - he really doubted that the other boy was thinking about anything else. All he got for his efforts was a soft (and very high pitched) “mhmm!”

“Why’re you nervous?” he asked with a soft tut, practically forcing Goshiki to look down at him. 

“Uh-” 

Kenjirou blinked up at him, patiently waiting - the picture of innocence that he most definitely was not. He’d wait for a bit, have a small giggle at Goshiki’s attempt at fumbling through an explanation, and then he’d give in and kiss the boy. It’d be cute, he’d laugh at Goshiki for a few days and see how it went. Fool proof, really. 

Except for the fact that Goshiki was already pressing his lips against Kenjirou’s before he could even open his mouth. 

He gasped in surprise, hands fumbling to get a grip onto Goshiki’s shirt front in his surprise.

“Ah, sorry- was that-”

“Nope, just surprised, get back here,” he mumbled, as best he could around Goshiki’s mouth, but nonetheless, the boy listened. He hummed softly as he felt Goshiki’s hands fall to his hips, gently, as if he’d break him, and he laughed to himself as how damn sweet the boy was. 

The kiss was hardly anything more than innocent, but Kenjirou revelled in it anyway. Kissing someone when you could see the happiness dancing behind their eyelids, when you could feel the warm excitement mixing with fear in their palms - it was  _ brilliant.  _ He hadn’t done much kissing in his life, but after the fucking shitstorm he had been through to get this one, well. It was about fucking time. 

He quirked his lip as he ran his palm softly up and down Goshiki’s chest and felt the other boy mirror him, moving his hand along his back.  _ Brilliant,  _ he thought to himself.

The door swinging open with a loud bang was considerably  _ less  _ brilliant. 

So was the fact that Goshiki quite literally dropped Kenjirou in his surprise. 

He groaned from where he lay in a soft heap on the floor, drawing his hands to his face and letting out a noise that was halfway between embarrassment and anger. Because his luck was that  _ fucking _ bad-

“Ah, Kenjirou-kun, you’d have to expect your luck to run out sooner or later-”

“Fuck  _ off,  _ Satori!” He yelled, a mere sliver away from throwing his shoe and praying that his aim was good enough not to need luck to hit him in his stupid red hair.

Poor Goshiki, he absentmindedly noticed, was still standing stock still in the middle of the room. The boy was seemingly torn between wanting to help Kenjirou up, babbling nonsense at Tendou, and almost literally melting where he stood. 

Tendou simply waltzed into the room, throwing his arm around Goshiki’s shoulders and chuckling at the jolt that went through him. Kenjirou let out another soft groan as he felt the mixture of shock and mortification run through the boy. 

“See, Kenji-kun has this special preference when he’s kissing-”

“Satori, god damn it!” He yelled, jumping up and forcibly shoving his friend out of the room in an embarrassed huff. “Stop corrupting him!” 

“You’re the one that’s going to be doing most of that, Kenjirou!” he sang, and Kenjirou slammed the door with a loud huff, hiding his reddening face in his palms as best he could after. 

“Uh-” 

He glanced up and back at Goshiki, who, at the very least, was blushing just as bad. Kenjirou rose a questioning eyebrow at him.

“Was that- was that, okay?” he muttered, voice quieting down into a mere whisper as he did so. Kenjirou chuckled, moving away from Tendou as easily as the interruption was happened and making his was over to him - as soon as he was confident that the door  _ was,  _ in fact, locked.

“Yes, Tsutomu,” he muttered. “That was very much okay.”

Goshiki blushed, nodding once, firmly. “S-so, does that mean we can- carry on? Maybe?” 

Kenjirou smiled up at him. 

“Mm, I think it does,” he whispered, cutting off any affirmation Goshiki might have wanted to say in favour of kissing him again. 

He didn’t have to read into it at all to notice that Goshiki was  _ definitely  _ pleased. 

**Author's Note:**

> a few things that really ought to be expanded on:
> 
> 1\. lowkey aroace ushijima who loves his dog (and tendou)  
> 2\. how the hell do you fuck up a plan that bad? three words: tendou and shirabu  
> 3\. please consider goshiki with an incurable sweet tooth  
> 4\. also ok i made goshiki hella angsty at the end without meaning to but also, c'mon, he's fucking hard on himself as is, there's smth behind that
> 
> anyway as always, come yell about rarepairs with me @ americanbeautiies.tumblr.com


End file.
